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When no response came, Cordelia decided to take the chance. The room was dark, save for a few low-burning candles. Blinking in the darkness, she spotted the bed and noticed a Cedric-sized lump under several layers of blankets. She gave a slight cough to announce her presence.

“I brought you some tea,” she offered, gesturing towards the floating tea trey behind her.

Silence.

Aiming her wand at the fireplace, she lit a small fire and soon busied herself preparing the tea at a nearby table. The only sounds were the soft crackling of the fire and the light clinking of china. Setting his cup on the nightstand, she conjured a chair and made herself comfortable at his bedside. Staring into the middle distance, she began stirring her tea absently.

What was there to say? What could she say?

This wasn’t exactly Cordelia’s area of expertise. And frankly, this wasn’t the first time he botched things, nor would it be the last. When he succeeded, it was marvelous. When he failed, it was catastrophic. With success, comes failure, and all that. Now how would one word that to sound more comforting? She sipped her tea thoughtfully.

“Would you like a biscuit?” she offered with a small smile.

Why was she even here? Even before their reconciliation she had been apt to ignore him entirely during these incidents. There were only so many ways to kick a man when he was down. And kick she had in the past  — to the groin. Several times.

Why couldn’t he just rest?

As she bustled about his abode, he sighed, scrunching up even more for his own comfort, sulking away and hoping she’d just leave. Perhaps she was just kindly leaving snacks, but no, she was offering them like some sort of noble pest. This was much more of a Sofia thing and it was slightly off-putting. This newfound positivity was dreadful and awkward in every sense of both words. 

She quietly set the plate back on his nightstand and continued to sip her tea. The awkwardness of the situation sinking in. Since Cedric had restored her hair, she had made it her mission to be nicer to him, and by Merlin, that's what she was going to do. But nice just wasn't something Cordelia did. Sincerity didn't come naturally to her.

Last night had not gone according to plan. It was such a pity, really, as Cedric had been so excited. Roland had asked him to entertain for some visiting royals. There was a gleam in his eye that Cordelia had not seen in who-knows-how-long. She knew Cedric loved to plan, and he loved to show off. It had been nice seeing him in such high spirits the past week. He had even asked for her help in decorating the ballroom.

Unfortunately, Cordelia had a previous engagement and couldn’t attend the festivities, but she wished him good luck and expected to hear all about it in the morning. However, instead of singing praises of her brother, she was greeted by a surly maid staff and a disgruntled Baileywick. Judging by the large scorch marks and shattered glass covering the ballroom, things had not gone well at all.

As expected, he wasn’t in the workshop. “Oh, dear…” she sighed and made her way to his room. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. Not hearing anything, she pressed her ear to the door and spoke gently. “It’s me…May I come in?”

“I brought you some tea,” she offered, gesturing towards the floating tea trey behind her.

Silence.

Aiming her wand at the fireplace, she lit a small fire and soon busied herself preparing the tea at a nearby table. The only sounds were the soft crackling of the fire and the light clinking of china. Setting his cup on the nightstand, she conjured a chair and made herself comfortable at his bedside. Staring into the middle distance, she began stirring her tea absently.

What was there to say? What could she say?

This wasn’t exactly Cordelia’s area of expertise. And frankly, this wasn’t the first time he botched things, nor would it be the last. When he succeeded, it was marvelous. When he failed, it was catastrophic. With success, comes failure, and all that. Now how would one word that to sound more comforting? She sipped her tea thoughtfully.

“Would you like a biscuit?” she offered with a small smile.

There was not a single ounce of care anywhere in his being. Yet, despite her full knowledge of his disdain for these things, he had been dragged out once again to play a judge without a voice. It didn’t matter what he said - her opinion was all that mattered - yet, if he stayed quiet, she would whine and complain. It was almost a ritual at this point, but he didn’t know for what spell. To null his sanity? Who knew?

Leaning back in his seat as he only took a mere glance over the array of pink silken fabrics, he would shrug, “It’s alright.”

The same answer he had been giving for the whole afternoon whether the gowns actually looked good or not.

It had been a bitterly cold winter in Enchancia. One the kingdom had not seen in many years. At the first sign of thawing, the royal family (actually Princess Amber) had the idea of hosting a ball in welcoming Spring. At the words "ball" and "Spring," Cordelia seized the opportunity and grabbed the first person available to shop for the occasion....that person being Cedric, but beggars can't be choosers, as they say.

Various winter starters that have nothing to do with holidays.

“I’m done with winter.”

“Snow? More like frozen evil…”

“Oh, it’s snowing again?”

“That’s not snow, that’s hail.”

“SNOW BALL FIGHT!!”

“Don’t touch my snow man!”

“I’m building a snow fort, wanna help?”

“Let’s go ice skating, it’ll be fun!”

“Are you sure the lake is frozen?”

“Gah! The snow got in my shoes!”

“It’s not that cold is it?”

“Wait… You’re not going out wearing just that are you?”

“Please bundle up, I’m cold looking at you.”

“I’m wearing a sweater, over a sweater, over a long sleeves shirt. That’s how cold I am.”

“Here, use my scarf/gloves/hat.”

“Give me your hands, I’ll warm them up.”

“It’s not just below freezing, it’s below zero.”

“Let’s stay inside today.”

“Doesn’t this look lovely?”

“There’s no better way to spend a cold day than under all my blankets with a book or twelve.”

“My plans? To stay inside and stay warm.”

“Snow day? More like movie day.”

“My car won’t start…”

“I have to be honest and say I’m not so sure that’s a great idea–but at the same time, I am intrigued to see what will happen. Count me in.” 

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One of the traditions of Wassailia was that one never sought gifts for oneself, for this was a time of giving….

Cordelia, however, always thought this to be a rather silly tradition. Who better to get her what she wanted than herself? After all, she was expecting the same gifts as always: another delightful handmade ornament from Calista, an old spellbook from Daddy, and an atrocious dress from Mother. Perhaps a card, or something, from Cedric. Plus, whatever scented candle was recently being regifted within her circle of friends.

Tearing her eyes away from a particularly appealing display of sea glass necklaces, she noticed Cedric retreat to a vacant armchair next to the fireplace. Calista clamoring onto his lap. She hurried over to them, an excited gleam in her eye.

“Right, then. You two sit tight. I’ll be a few minutes.” Only a few minutes. Perhaps an hour. Maybe three. “Be a dear and hold Mummy’s purse, Sweetums?” Kissing her daughter on the cheek, and patting Cedric’s head, she was off. Ready to fend off other eager shoppers of silk scarves and lace hankercheifs.

A few minutes. There went the rest of the afternoon. 

Why exactly he had agreed to this tomfoolery was beyond him at this point, and regret seeped in quickly. Even Calista’s charms weren’t enough to sate his annoyances, and the supply of sour candies he had brought with him in case of this happening began to deplete quickly. Even the child slid off his lap after an untold amount of time to go wander the store herself with minimal supervision from him. (The various books laid about for those going through such torture were a tad more interesting than hearing a girl babble about shoes.)

The odd time that Cordelia would pass by, he’d simply give her the look. They had errands to be doing. This? This was a complete and utter waste of time.

As the shop was smaller than anticipated, she wasn't too worried about Calista wandering far. Cordelia had managed to comb it in its entirety in less than an hour. A new personal record. However, she was growing bored of snatching earrings and and gloves out of the hands of old bitties.

Circling again, her brother was wearing an expression as sour as the candies he had gorged himself on. Sitting playfully on the arm of his chair, she adopted a tone she reserved for small children and particularly pathetic animals.

“Quit whining, Ceddy. I need to check my list. Luckily, it isn’t quite as long as last year.”

With a flourish of her wand, a piece of rolled parchment appeared in a puff of pink smoke. Hovering in midair, the parchment unrolled itself down to the ground. She conjured a quill in her hand and crossed off her latest purchases. Satisfied, the quill and parchment disappear in another puff of smoke. She then turns and smiles at the two of them.

“I just have a few more things on my list, and then we…can…” her voice faltered when she noticed a brightly lit shop over Cedric’s left shoulder. Her eyes light up with an excitement almost identical to Calista’s. Pushing him aside, she makes a beeline for the store window and gazes hungrily into it. Shoes. The many of them. Glorious pumps of every color, and style, with matching scarves and purses. And the jewelry! She may need a new jewelry cabinet to accommodate rings of that scale. How long had this shop been here? Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

“We have to go in here! Right. Now!” Before they could say anything, she grabbed her brother and daughter by the hand and whisk them into the shop. The bell above the door chimes their entry, and a blast of warm air from a fireplace thaws their frozen faces.

Last year’s list was an abomination of generosity. While he had managed to escape the second and third day of her shopping adventures that time, he was still forced to deal with the first and fourth. Who knows it there was a fifth? By that point, he had retreated to the family’s cabins to hide from the chaos with their mother. 

Lazily following behind her, he would freeze just as suddenly as she. He knew what was about to happen— that look on her face was undeniable. There was no bracing for impact, nor any time to prepare; his hand was clutched as the squealing began, and he’d be dragged forwards with a quiet scream of his own internally.

Hera help him. They were going to be stuck in here for hours.

Cordelia, however, always thought this to be a rather silly tradition. Who better to get her what she wanted than herself? After all, she was expecting the same gifts as always: another delightful handmade ornament from Calista, an old spellbook from Daddy, and an atrocious dress from Mother. Perhaps a card, or something, from Cedric. Plus, whatever scented candle was recently being regifted within her circle of friends.

Tearing her eyes away from a particularly appealing display of sea glass necklaces, she noticed Cedric retreat to a vacant armchair next to the fireplace. Calista clamoring onto his lap. She hurried over to them, an excited gleam in her eye.

“I have no idea why I allowed you to bum me into this.”

It was freezing. Yet, the streets were full of bustling shoppers eager to get their lists finished. Of course, he too had a list - one longer than it had ever been in his entire life - but he had figured he’d be doing the gathering on his own during a warmer day. Shivering into his thick black furred robes, he’d glare at Cordelia before his niece gently squeezed at his palm, eyes beaming with enough enthusiasm for the two of them. That was enough to warm him momentarily.

With a flourish of her wand, a piece of rolled parchment appeared in a puff of pink smoke. Hovering in midair, the parchment unrolled itself down to the ground. She conjured a quill in her hand and crossed off her latest purchases. Satisfied, the quill and parchment disappear in another puff of smoke. She then turns and smiles at the two of them.

“I just have a few more things on my list, and then we...can...” her voice faltered when she noticed a brightly lit shop over Cedric’s left shoulder. Her eyes light up with an excitement almost identical to Calista’s. Pushing him aside, she makes a beeline for the store window and gazes hungrily into it. Shoes. The many of them. Glorious pumps of every color, and style, with matching scarves and purses. And the jewelry! She may need a new jewelry cabinet to accommodate rings of that scale. How long had this shop been here? Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

With a gusty sigh of the woefully put-upon, Cordelia began awkwardly patting his shoulder. He can be so dramatic.

“Really, Cedric, would it kill you to spend one evening outside of your musty tower? Don’t you want to meet somebody? Settle down?”

“I don’t need to meet anybody.” he’d groan, malice growing in his expression.

Why was everybody so obsessed with him settling down? Starting a family, whatever it was they wanted? He was old enough to make his own decisions, and fate played him a pretty awful hand in the looks department. Besides all that, what about his privacy? He was having a hard enough time hiding certain things from everybody - some people already knew about his private life at this point - Cordelia would just ruin anything if he allowed her to start anything, or meddle in current affairs.

“I do spend evenings outside my tower, thank you very much. Goes to show just how much you actually pay attention.”

Spending so much time alone, and (voluntarily or not) it didn’t seem right. She became so frustrated, she was actually stumbling on her words.

“Did it ever occur to you-It’s just-we’re all just so....we’re worried about you!”